Why?
by Liz High
Summary: Teenage colonial America sits in his bedroom, no longer the happy kid he once was, but a hurt teenager whose heart is heavy with the feelings of abandonment from when England went back to his own country to attend to the damage from the war with France. Explains why America feels he must be the hero all the time. Human names used


The young blonde sat in the darkness of his room alone, tears overflowing from his beautiful blue eyes, now echoing the blue of loneliness that filled his soul. 'Maybe if I was good enough for him he would come back. If only I was what he wanted he wouldn't have left' these thoughts echoed though his brain. The truth was Arthur was trying his best to do everything he could, but his countrymen needed him. He had a duty to his land first, which left him very absent from Alfred's life, but from the 15 year olds perspective Arthur had abandoned him. Now he was left in this world without his older brother, the one person he loved the most growing up.

He stood from the bed, walked towards the wardrobe mirror, and stared in awe at the face staring back at him. A tall lad with sunken sad eyes looked back where once the smiling youth stood. Disgusted at what the reflection showed him, he raised his fist, smashing it through the glass, leaving behind a fist sized old with large cracks spider webbing from the center. Alfred ran his fingers across the shattered glass, mesmerized at the destruction he had caused. The sight made the tears flow once more, reminding him of how cracked and shattered his own life was.

His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound of a key opening the door. 'Could it be?' he thought as his ears perked up at the sound. Alfred quickly wiped the tears from his face. If it was who he so desperately thought it was he couldn't let him see the mess he had become. "Arthur?" His voice cracked slightly as he peeked his head from the bedroom door.

"Alfred? Is that you?" a familiar voice resonated down the hallway.

"ARTHUR" Alfred exclaimed, sprinting into the arms of the older man. After all this time his brothers arms were still the one place he felt safest. "Arthur why did you leave me" as the tears burst through the damn of the wall he had tried to desperately to build to guard his feelings. The last thing he wanted was to let Arthur know how damaged he was for fear he would realise what a wreck he was and leave again.

"Alfred don't cry." He said letting go, getting a good look at Alfred for the first time in what had seemed like years.

"My you've grown so much," he said soothingly, reaching his hand out to dry the tears from his little brothers eyes.

'Why are you avoiding my question' was the only thing going through his brain, but he kept his mouth shut and enjoyed having Arthur back.

Breaking the silence Arthur pulled a package from his bag and handed it to the younger blonde. "I bought you something! I do hope you like it!" He smiled that crooked grin Alfred remembered as a kid.

Trying to control the excitement filling his heart, he reached for the package slowly and opened it, revealing a black suit inside.

"I thought you could use one! You're my little brother and you should start dressing like it!" He smiled and pulled it out "Well what do you say? Try it on!"

"But-t-t" Alfred stammered, looking at Arthur with hurt in his eyes. "What's wrong with my clothes I have now?"

"Honestly Alfred you can't go around looking scruffy! You have to grow up sometime" Arthur frowned, thrusting the clothing into Alfred's arms to try on. Half-heartedly Alfred took the suit and walked to his room to slip them on. 'I really am not good enough' he sighed, sliding to the ground then resting his head against the back of the door in anguish. 'I thought when he came back things would be different, but why do I feel so sad. Why do I love him?"

'No. I'm done. I'm done feeling sorry for myself.' He gritted his teeth in anger. 'I'll show them all. I'm Alfred F Jones, and I'm going to be a hero for everyone that needs it…..even if he can't see it, I'll show them, but first, I need to be a hero for myself.' He slipped on the suit and smiled at himself in the cracked mirror. "That's right. I CAN be the hero" he said aloud to himself before turning to face his older brother a changed teenager.


End file.
